It hadn't been that long since I skied last- May- but some muscles had gone on vacation for the summer and were rudely awakened by the hectic pace of shredding powder on Wednesday. Soaking in the natural thermal hot springs at the base of the ski hill while Brazilians that had never seen snow before skied by on the piste sporting flaming torches, my legs regained some strength and vitality for the next day. The stars had come out in the evening and were as bright as the flaming sleeve of one of the Brazilians who couldn't ski and had crashed into the ditch, torch and all.






I hadn't even seen the hill yet since Wednesday was completed clouded in and only the lower half of the mountain had opened. When I woke up at 7 and peered out the window on Thursday morning, I almost, well, lets say I was excited. Tiny crystals of ice lingered in the air outside our window and reflected the cold, bright light of a bluebird day. I made sure I took my time at the buffet breakfast in the Gran Hotel restaurant, inhaling cereal, fruit, pancakes, toast, cheese, juice, eggs, you name it, I ate it. And after the previous nights spa, dinner, and now breakfast, was I ready for the day.






The lift seemed to still be loosening its creaky joints as we meet up with Jose and Christian, some local rippers who were stoked to show us around. The middle aged lifties who work to feed their their families and not to poach fresh tracks finished shovelling the loading zone and we wondered up the first chair. There is no rush in Termas de Chillan. The chair took its time and bid us "Buenos dias" at the top of the mountain before diligently turning on its heel and motioning to meet it at the bottom again in a few minutes.






With the entire alpine untracked, we did what all good ski bums do, and shredded the deepest pow we could find as close to the lift as possible. And that was practically directly under the chair. We moved out left and right from there, bumping into only a few other powder junkies as the morning wore on. We swapped chairs and picked off some shorter pockets that required some local knowledge to access and link up. We dropped the long cornice left of the El Chueco Chair and enjoyed short steep spines down to the valley bottom before traversing back to the lift.






With few off piste skiers, there is little avalanche control, meaning due caution was neccessary. The ski hill is located on a volcano and "piping, hot magmma" used to once ooze down the mountain creating these amazing halfpipe features and gullies. High winds up high, however, often cross load these features and there are upteen tight terrain traps waiting at the bottom of seemingly harmless short pitches of epic cold smoke. With a coastal style snowpack though, things were remarkably stable considering the nuking that the mountain recieved 2 days earlier, and we were practically free to ski where ever we liked.






By the afternoon, we were forced to make some short bootpacks in order to ski truely untracked powder. We gave up on that pretty quickly though because we would only be skiing our own tracks from the morning, so we spent the last few hours revisiting some favourites from the morning, still enjoying in your face, freeze your teeth powder.

The day had stayed cold despite the sun and it the weather held out, Friday was going to be amazing again.






Sure enough, the recipe of buffet dinners and thermal spas and fancy Thai massage produced another bluebird day. Things were even slower that morning, with tired and exhausted bodies and some thumping hangovers. We picked off some lines we couldn't be bothered with the previous day, but had stayed perfected preserved, and then looked to the backcountry. The long, gradual chair rides over the last 2 days had given me plenty of time to gaze beyond the rope and I was eager to see what oppurtunities a set of skins would afford us.






We set off for a peak a little ways back and behind the ski hill. It was a steep, clean face with a long fall line, which is somewhat dificult to find given the nature of the rolling lava morraines. 2 1/2 half hours later, we we were on top of a peak, essentially in the middle of the Andes with the most incredible views. With time and motivation, there is a tonne of skiing to be done in the surrounding mountains. With a sled, the mind boggles at the number of days of your life waiting out there.






We dropped into the shaded face and choked on snow all the way down to the glacier. It would have been even better yesterday had there not been a thin suncrust, but it was still ridiculously good. The crazy thing was, we rolled all the way back to the ski hill, indulging in the odd sweet pitch of snow to put the icing on the cake.






The only thing I regret about my trip to Termas de Chillan was not waiting til the sun set to ski down in the incredible alpin glow that graced the mountain that evening. My body was finished though and the light looked just as good as I soaked in a hot spring with un cerveza in my hand.

It was as good as it gets!

Check out the Thermas de Chillan website.

For more information and tour options visit SouthAmericaSki.com

If you do find yourself down here, be sure to consider the Mission Impossible Lodge in Las Trancas

Photos: Todd Weselake Photography